A little farther gone
by TheEverydayArtist
Summary: Karma joined the Dark Brotherhood for very specific reasons. She had no intention of becoming the Listener, or becoming friends with the Night Mother's Keeper. She had no intention of acknowledging her own insanity. She had no intention of going back. It's strange how one meets their fate on the path they take to avoid it. Rated M for later content. ListenerxCicero
1. The Listener

**Hello, everyone. Thanks for stopping by~. This is my first Skyrim fanfic, so I hope you enjoy it.**

**I'll let you know up front: it's a little AU. I follow the game loosely, but not completely, so some details may be off. I was inspired by a number of other authors on this website to write this, so I thank them for the boost of inspiration.**

**Also. I'm still learning how to use this place's publishing system. So forgive the constant refurbishing I'll be doing. :T**

**I shouldn't have to say this...but sadly, I don't own Skyrim or any of the characters in it.**

**Please R&R~**

**A little farther gone  
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* * *

Karma pulled up her hood to shield her face from the falling rain. Unlike the common people of the city below her, she didn't see it as an obstacle to her task. The rain would dampen the sound of her footsteps, the twang of her bow, and the whistle of her arrow. It would not hamper her visibility, nor would it cause her fingers to slip over the string. The grey skies would make it easier for her to use the shadows to her advantage. The mission would be done swiftly, without error, without distraction.

That was simply expected of a Dark Brotherhood assassin.

Karma was the newest member of the Dark Brotherhood and she bore that title with pride. She had proved herself to be a productive and trustworthy member of the family within her first few weeks, and she had upheld that with seeming ease despite her youth. Her impeccable skill with the bow was useful—quick and clean kills from a distance, in and out missions, little to no contact. In a terrible situation, she could handle a sword well and use small amounts of magic. And with a small, slender-framed body and Redguard blood, there were few that could outrun her.

She wore the symbol of the Black Hand proudly, and used her status as an assassin to exact her own sort of revenge upon the world. She could not hunt down the men who had taken away her home and her family ten years ago, but she could cut down anyone who caused harm to other innocent (or not so innocent) people. At twenty-two years old, she was a force to be reckoned with and she knew it. Karma knew that she didn't look like very much. She was average, as far as Redguard women go: average in height, small in build, more muscle than a simple housewife. She kept her black hair cut short, usually with the blade of her concealed dagger, and owned a pair of dark chocolate colored eyes. She neglected any face-paints or braids, and wasn't outstandingly intimidating with her lack of visible scars. So she had to let her skill with a bow do the talking for her, allowing her excellent marksmanship to show everyone exactly what kind of woman she was. Abrasive, at best.

It was with hidden satisfaction that she rode out of Markarth on her trusty steed, bow safely strapped her back, its job of the day finished. The road back to Falkreath would be dangerous, but unlike commoners, she didn't cower at the idea. In fact, anyone that got in her way would find much more than they bargained for with her.

Returning to her home to be greeted by people she was fond of was bittersweet. After two years of living in the Falkreath Sanctuary, Karma had bonds with her Dark Brothers and Sisters that she cherished, no matter her lack of expression. They did not replace the family she'd once had…but they helped fill the space, smearing a healing salve over the scar. They'd taken her in, refined her, and given her a place to belong. When she was around, they acknowledged her; when she was injured, they cared for her; when she needed them, they were there.

Being a member of the Dark Brotherhood was rewarding and she enjoyed it. Not necessarily because she enjoyed taking life. That had almost nothing to do with it. Almost. But ever since Karma had found herself alone in her early years, she'd longed to be a part of something bigger than herself…something that gave her an outlet for her not-so-healthy and violent cravings. The Brotherhood was the perfect place, each member holding similar moral values and dark secrets that molded them into who they were. Karma was certain that she would never find a place where the people were more tightly-knit.

But a rift had formed recently. Two months earlier, the Night Mother had arrived. While the dynamics of the Dark Brotherhood hadn't changed at all, there seemed to be a shadow that foretold of imminent change. And with the Night Mother came her Keeper: an Imperial named Cicero. Karma had been at the sanctuary when he'd arrived. His words had caught and held her interest, and cast doubt over her loyalty to Astrid. Loyalty that she realized was foolish in the ways of a naïve newcomer.

"But the Night Mother is mother to us all! It is her voice her follow, her will!"

It took so little for Karma to become enrapt. While she continued to listen to and obey Astrid without hesitation, she went against her leader's "suggestions" and sought out the company of the jester. He was a giggling, chattering mess, and many apples short of a pie, but one of the most interesting characters she'd ever met. And he was her access point to information about the mysterious Night Mother. She learned about the Dark Brotherhood before Astrid's rule, about the Five Tenets and the Morag Tong. She learned about the terrible things that had happened in Cyrodiil, the reason for the Night Mother's long journey. She learned about Cicero's duties as Keeper and the depressing lack of a Listener…

"I don't understand you, Karma," Babette said over an impromptu alchemy lesson, "Why on earth do you spend so much time with that guy?"

Karma could feel the eyes of the other members in the room on her—Nazir, Gabriella, Veezara—but she didn't bother to answer until she was finished grinding the plants in her mortar. She lifted her gaze to the face of the vampire child, choosing her words carefully,

"He's... interesting. There's little more to it than that." Her voice was often rough from underuse. Karma only spoke when spoken to directly or if she had a dire question. Seeing as it was wise to be silent on assassination missions, and Karma was almost always on a mission, speaking was an unneeded luxury. She still shared laughs and told stories of her successes with the others, but if there was nothing going on, the Redguard woman was completely silent.

"Interesting?" Nazir actually chuckled. "You find a madman interesting?"

Karma gave a nonchalant shrug, testing the consistency of the herbs in her mortar with the tip of her finger. Brushing the powder off on her tunic, she looked up at the other Redguard with a slight smile,

"There's no fault in him being a little farther gone than us. I'd wager that I'm farther gone than any of you~" she gestured to the each in the room in turn, "We all have our coping mechanisms. Insanity is his."

"What's that supposed to mean?" There was almost an offended edge in Babette's tone.

Karma slid back in her chair, picking her half-finished ale off the table, "I don't mean it to be a bad thing…but can you honestly say that there isn't a bit of madness in each of you? If you deny it, I'll call you a liar," she took a hesitant sip of her drink, "Because it's impossible to do what we do and be completely sane. Normal people can't stomach the idea of taking life in exchange for coin. But we're not normal. We have something they don't: a dark secret, a terrible past, something that makes us capable. We have motives they don't: revenge, hatred, or a simple craving to see others bleed…"

The room was awkwardly silent when she stopped talking. Karma swept a hand across her eyes and the faraway look was gone, the somber edge to her voice vanished,

"I'm just not strong enough to use insanity as my shield,"

* * *

Moving so far from home with the Night Mother had been a stressful event. Cicero had thought that settling into the sanctuary near Falkreath would be easy, but he wasn't met with what he expected. The leader was capable; but quite frankly, he despised her…just as he despised anyone who dishonored Mother. If the Night Mother hadn't needed a safe place he would have already sent her to meet the Dread Father. But his duty was to Mother, and so he kept himself under control and continued to search.

In his long journey from Bravil to Falkreath, he had tried and tried and tried to find a Listener for the Unholy Matron, but he had failed each time. No one seemed worthy of her voice. He was becoming frantic. Even within the small Skyrim Brotherhood, the Night Mother hadn't spoken to anyone, and the creeping cold of failure was really beginning to set in. If the Night Mother wouldn't speak…if he couldn't find the Listener…what was he good for?

But then again, there was that Redguard. Not the man, by Sithis no, but the woman…small and quiet and curious. She had been asking a lot of questions, doing a lot of listening. Perhaps, if he presented her to the Night Mother…But it was risky. Fool he may be, but Cicero was not unintelligent. The anger that Astrid had displayed when he'd said the Night Mother was above her had not got passed him. If the little Redguard girl was chosen by Mother, becoming the Listener would automatically place her on the top of the totem. With the Five Tenets abandoned, it would take only a swift and subtle knife thrust for the Listener to be gone. He had no doubt that if Astrid thought it would "protect her little Family" she would do away with the defective member. Only his position as Keeper was keeping him alive at this moment—he was well aware of that.

But the Unholy Matron needed a Listener, and the only one that seemed to be worth anything at all was the Redguard girl. Karma was her name, yes, with dark eyes and a blinding smile. The girl who had continuously sought out his company, listened to him chattering away about dearest Mother, asked him careful, personal questions. From the moment he'd seen her, Cicero had sized her up and measured her skills. He knew she was best with her bow, or else she wouldn't care for it like an infant. He knew she was right handed, as she wore a glove on her left and yet bore calluses on her palm and fingers—she must find it easier to pull the string of her bow with bare fingers, and therefore neglected the glove on that hand, even when using a sword. He could tell by the way she walked that she was surefooted; subconsciously measuring every step she took. He could tell by the way she always swept her gaze across a room upon entering that she was always aware of the people surrounding her and her exit routes. Cicero knew with certainty that she was a capable assassin. And he knew she was hiding something.

That little fact wouldn't matter much if she became the Listener. Of course, he couldn't force Mother to choose, but he had to give it a try. Cicero didn't feel an ounce of timidity approaching her, sliding his gloved fingers across her elbow in an almost intimate gesture to get her attention. Karma looked up at him, immediately questioning. After all, she always went to him, never the other way around.

"Hello, hello~" he greeted her with a smile, "Cicero has a question for dearest Karma, if you would be so kind as to offer a bit of time~?"

"Sure."

Oh, another thing Cicero had noticed. Her voice seemed to be reserved for him. He'd observed her elsewhere in the sanctuary around the other Dark Brothers and Sisters, and she spoke rarely. Not as if she disliked any of them, just that she didn't speak.

Cicero pushed the iron doors of the Night Mother's chamber shut easily. It was better if no one knew what was going on in here. He spun to face her, unable to contain the almost hysteric giggle that escaped him. Karma was looking up at the Night Mother's coffin,

"…what do you need?" she asked without hesitation, facing him.

Cicero closed some of the space between them, leaning in. Karma didn't lean away like anyone else would have. Her eyes wavered just slightly, obviously taking in his features—and it was an intriguing idea. It had been a long while since he'd had any intimate physical contact, and usually the jester's behavior scared other people away, but he could tell by the light in those chocolate colored eyes that she was interested. Interested how, he wasn't sure, but the interest was there. A darker, twisted part of him ordered him to act upon it, to take advantage of it…but no, he had to act for Mother…always for Mother…

"Cicero has a proposition for you~. Just an idea, a little suggestion. As you know, Cicero has been searching high and low, far and wide, for the Listener. It may not be so, of course, it's all up to dearest Mother but…Cicero would like to present you to her, to see if, perhaps, maybe she will speak to you?"

Karma was silent for several moments. Her gaze dropped and her face was a mask of contemplation, and for a minute Cicero thought she was going to refuse. But then she sighed heavily, letting out a long breath. She drew herself up again and nodded,

"If it'll ease your mind."

Neither the jester nor Cicero quite understood that comment, but the excitement swept away the confusion and he ushered her over to the coffin. At the back of his mind, he knew it might not work, Mother might not speak, but it was worth a try. He carefully unlocked the coffin and eased the doors open. He heard Karma's sharp intake of breath and glanced over his shoulder at her in question, but her eyes weren't on him. She was looking up at the Night Mother. It was the strangest thing…as he watched her, the light behind her eyes dimmed and her posture stooped slightly, her expression of surprise falling away.

"…Karma-?"

Cicero received no answer. The Redguard didn't even seem to hear him. He flitted around her, waving his hand in front of her face, poking her, and otherwise trying to rouse her—but to no avail. Somehow, it was terribly amusing. He could have slipped his dagger right between her ribs without a fight~. Oh, no…no, that wouldn't be a good idea. He forced himself to relax.

And then, suddenly, she came to. Karma shuddered hard and sucked in a desperate breath, and wobbled as if she would fall. She caught herself rapidly and Cicero heard her whimper. It was not a pained sound. It held more shock than pain.

"Helloooo~?" Cicero couldn't resist the urge to poke her again. His fingers slid along her ribs, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath her tunic. She wasn't wearing her armor…she rarely did when hanging about the sanctuary.

Karma squeaked in surprise and twitched away, swatting at his hands. Her eyes were wide when they met his and Cicero found himself surprised. She looked so…he wasn't sure how to name the emotion. Perhaps it was pure wonder, nothing more or less than awe.

But then she spoke, uttering a phrase that made his heart skip a beat.

"Cicero…Darkness rises when silence dies."

She spoke so quietly he almost missed it. She said it as it if were a precious secret, something that could only be shared with someone trusted. The words echoed through his skull, silencing every hint of thought. Those words…

The jester burst into hysterical laughter and Cicero couldn't help but to follow suit, feeling happiness unlike anything else rising up in his chest. He'd been right. She wasn't just any little Redguard. She was worthy of being the Listener! She'd spoken the Binding Words…words he'd been waiting to hear for so many years-!

"You fantastic woman! You beautiful fantastic woman!" his voice was squeaking upwards, loud enough for others to hear, but he couldn't care less. He wasn't a failure. He'd done his job and served Mother-! Even if Mother wouldn't speak to him…

"Hail Sithis, our Lady is back! The silence has been broken! The Night Mother has spoken! The Listener has been chosen!"

Cicero saw it for just a second—the fear beneath the swelling pride, naked emotion on Karma's face. And it occurred to him: he would have to protect Mother's Listener…the Listener…_His_ Listener.


	2. Difficult Orders

**Thank you to everyone who read and reviewed the first chapter. I very much appreciate it!**

**I hope you enjoy the second chapter. Again, things are a little AU, but still follow the DB questline.**

**Please R&R~**

* * *

With power comes responsibility.

No, Karma mused irritably, with power comes distrust.

The Redguard woman had expected it, to some extent, but she hadn't expected it to be so sudden and so intense. She'd learned from Cicero that the Listener was supposed to be the Leader of the Dark Brotherhood, but she honestly had no desire to take Astrid's job. However, even though she'd tried to make that clear, the Nord still watched her like a hawk, as if she expected treason at any moment. It was tiresome and irritating. After all, Karma had been nothing but loyal to Astrid from the moment she'd been accepted into the Brotherhood. She'd thought that, because of this, the fact that she'd become the Listener wouldn't cause so much trouble.

Oh, how wrong she'd been.

To combat the increasing discomfort she felt, Karma chose to spend more time away from the Falkreath Sanctuary completing mediocre contracts. If she was at the Sanctuary, she was spending time with Cicero or tending to her bow. It quickly became a frustrating existence. But then the Night Mother spoke to her again and gave her a contract…and without telling Astrid, she left for Volunruud to speak to a man named Amaund Motierre.

It was the beginning of something bigger than she'd ever imagined. The man had preformed the Black Sacrament in order to contract the Dark Brotherhood into assassinating the Emperor of Tamriel.

It was perfect. Karma immediately took the contract to Astrid, handing it over without even unsealing the letter given to her. In her own way, it was a message to her leader: _I don't want to lead the Dark Brotherhood; I'm fine where I am._ Whether or not Astrid caught the message or believed her would have to be seen later. The Redguard could only hope. Not that she had much time to think about it…the Brotherhood was suddenly alive with activity. There was a lot of preparation needed and Karma found herself in the middle of it. She had the feeling that she was being kept busy on purpose, but the hostility was waning slowly and Astrid seemed to be convinced of her honest intentions. She completed the tasks given to her without complaint, and in the time when preparation was simply waiting for days to pass, Karma spent long hours with Cicero and the Night Mother. Even with as much trouble as it had caused for her, she wanted to be a good Listener, and Cicero had become a good friend to her.

Ever since the Night Mother had spoken to her, he'd begun to hover by her almost obsessively. He seemed just as worried about someone slipping a knife in her back as she was. Karma didn't really mind it. She liked him and genuinely enjoyed his company, and decided to look at his hovering as a secondary security system beyond her own senses. She didn't even really mind the way he liked to touch her—not anything serious, just tiny brushes of his fingers across her elbow or her shoulder or the small of her back. It was as if he was verifying her existence for himself, making sure that she was tangible and real. He called her "dearest Listener" which was a little frustrating, but something she could swallow. It must have been pleasant for him to use her title, seeing as he'd been searching for a Listener for so long. She was happy to fill the spot, to see him so enthused about it. It was always better to see him cackling and singing than tense and upset.

It was obvious that Astrid still didn't like her hanging around the jester, but Karma continued to ignore that not-so-subtle message, using her title as Listener as an excuse to visit with the Keeper. There was a strange connection between them now, different from before. The Night Mother had mentioned something in one of her sessions with her…about the Keeper and the Listener being two very sacred positions. The Keeper and the Listener were a sort of team, and Karma liked to believe that they could work together to achieve Mother's best interest. It wasn't at all depressing to know that while she had been chosen as Listener, Cicero was extremely close to Mother's heart. She was satisfied to have anything at all and have her secrets intact.

Which was why it was terrifying to have it ripped away.

* * *

Karma returned from a successful mission, quiver an arrow short thanks to the death of Gauis Maro, expecting to receive another contract immediately. What she was met with in the first chamber of the sanctuary was something far different. Gabriella stopped her before she could get further into the chamber. Karma opened her mouth to tell her the news but the Dunmer stopped her,

"Yes, I know, Gaius Maro is dead. You've done very well, but we have a more pressing matter to deal with at the moment."

The Redguard tilted her head to the side with a frown, watching as Gabrielle struggled to choose her words. She let out a heavy sigh before beginning,

"…It's Cicero."

Karma's eyes widened and she felt a familiar, cold stab of fear. Cicero? She ducked past Gabriella and hurried down into the main chamber of the Sanctuary, afraid of what she might see. It wasn't at all what she expected.

Astrid was kneeling next to a wounded Veezara, to whom Babette was giving a potion to dull the pain. Festus was nearby, possibly to offer healing magic or simply help get the Argonian into the sleeping chamber. Astrid looked up at Karma when she entered, and her expression was fierce. The Redguard woman's frown deepened,

"What happened?"

"The fool went absolutely berserk! He tried to kill me!" Astrid was livid, "It was only because of Veezara that I'm unscathed. He jumped in the way to stop the fools' dagger…But he's fled from the Sanctuary…I knew that little lunatic couldn't be trusted!"

Karma refrained from asking what had been said or done prior to the incident. Cicero was sensitive about the Night Mother and Astrid tended to disrespect her often, even if it was on the sly. Festus seemed to read her expression and spoke up,

"I'm afraid it's true. If he wasn't trying to murder us all, the way he was slashing around would have been rather funny."

"Don't forget all his ranting and raving about the Night Mother," Nazir said as he entered the room, leaning to help Veezara get unsteadily to his feet, "Talking about how she was the true leader of the Brotherhood and Astrid is just a pretender,"

Karma couldn't help but to put out her hands, wanting to assist the Argonian as well, but Astrid quickly got her feet and tugged her to the side. There was a dark fire in the Nord's eyes that Karma hadn't seen before, and it was genuinely frightening.

"This situation has to be dealt with immediately, and I want you to take care of it."

Karma immediately protested, probably the first, real, straight-forward reluctance she had ever shown towards her leader, "Why me?!"

Astrid's grip on her arm tightened and her eyes narrowed angrily, "Because I've been nothing but good to you since you've arrived here. You are one of my best assassins, and you were closest to the blabbering idiot, which means you might have an easier time of getting to him. If you really want to prove to me that you aren't in league with him in order to overthrow me…" and her grip tightened further, almost threateningly, "…then you will go after Cicero and end his miserable life!"

Karma scowled, feeling the beginnings of rage licking at her insides. She tugged her arm from Astrid's grasp. She couldn't very well refuse. She _wasn't_ in league with Cicero to overthrow the leader of the Dark Brotherhood, but she didn't want to murder her friend…her dearest Keeper…She grit her teeth and nodded once, sharply. Astrid seemed to relax a little,

"…good. But…before you do that," her voice was suddenly softer, "Find my husband and make sure he's alright. After Cicero attacked, Arnbjorn flew into a rage and followed him when he fled."

Karma nodded again and turned away. She paced deeper into the Sanctuary to gather a few of her things, as well as to stop by the Night Mother's chambers. She didn't speak, even though the Redguard attempted to contact her. Perhaps Mother wanted her to figure this out on her own. It was a depressing thought. She quickly searched through Cicero's room, finding a number of journals that contained personal thoughts. It was intriguing to read, and the fourth one gave her answers. There was another Sanctuary in Dawnstar and the passphrase of the Black Door was written down. She knew where Cicero had gone.

"…I'll be back soon, Mother…" she'd closed the coffin and locked it, placing both of her hands on the gleaming iron doors, "…this is such a mess…"

* * *

It was so damn cold in the northern reaches of Skyrim. Karma sighed heavily as she flopped down onto her bedroll right next to her campfire, watching Shadowmere graze idly on sparse grass pushing up through the frost. Astrid had allowed her to borrow the demon horse for this mission…and while he really liked the steed, she wished she didn't have to do this. She curled up tight, wrapping her arms around her knees.

She couldn't kill Cicero…she just couldn't. He was her friend, one of her closest friends, and her Keeper…well, the Night Mother's Keeper. He was very precious to Mother…but also to her. Mad or not, he seemed to accept and understand her better than anyone else she'd met after the murder of her parents and the destruction of her home. To kill him would be like robbing herself of a piece of herself…as much of a mind-twister that was.

_"There is murder on the air…I can taste it."_

The voice startled her, and Karma rolled to get to her feet rapidly, sword freed from its sheath in one swift movement. She was shocked to find herself staring at the transparent, glowing blue figure of a man standing before her. A spirit…something she had witnessed only once before in the depths of a Nord crypt.

"…who are you?" she asked lowly, afraid it might attack her with magic or even an ethereal weapon. Instead it made a passive gesture with its hands and spoke, the voice far off and ancient yet, like the Night Mother's, somehow familiar to her,

_"My name is Lucien Lachance. In life, I was a Speaker of the Black Hand…yet you have been named Listener. There is no higher honor."_

Karma slowly put her sword away and stood upright, watching as the spirit crossed to Shadowmere and greeted the horse like an old friend. The horse didn't seem at all worried or even surprised to see him, giving a snort to acknowledge him but returning to grazing soon after. The Redguard watched him carefully, uncertain,

"…How did you know I was the Listener?" It wasn't as though the title was written upon her forehead or displayed by her clothing (which wasn't even the shrouded armor the assassins of the Brotherhood wore). Lucien faced her again, bright but flat eyes boring into hers,

_"Because the Night Mother called to her beloved husband and the Dread Father sent me to speak with you. He knows who you are and the turmoil you are experiencing. He believed that I could be of help to you,"_

If Karma wasn't staring at him right now, the idea would have seemed ridiculous, but she couldn't deny his words. He was obviously from beyond the Void, connected to her through forces she couldn't understand. The chance was almost once in a lifetime, and she stepped forward cautiously,

"…The Leader of the Brotherhood, Astrid, has sent me to kill Cicero, the Keeper of the Night Mother. I…I don't want to do it. Cicero is a good friend to me, and I know he is precious to Mother. But Astrid…she believes me to be in league with Cicero to overthrow her, so I must find a way to convince her otherwise…"

Lucien was silent for several long moments, watching her watch him. He seemed to mull it over from every angle he could before speaking, "…_there was a disturbance in the Void_," he admitted lowly, "_The Dread Father does not wish him dead. Keeper is a sacred position within the Dark Brotherhood. Tell me, Listener, do you trust in our Lady's wisdom?"_

Karma stammered to answer. Of course she did. From the moment the Night Mother had invaded her conscious, forever taking a back-seat within the recesses of her mind and becoming a deep part of her, she had never detected any deceit or hostility from the Unholy Matron. The Night Mother looked out for the best interest of her children, and those who gained special favor with her received other rewards, whether they be given in life or afterwards.

"I would do anything for the Night Mother," she admitted easily, whispering the words she had heard Cicero utter the first time she'd ever laid eyes upon him, "Because it is her words we follow. Her will…"

Lucien seemed satisfied with the answer, nodding his head. Karma heaved a sigh. Mother wouldn't want Cicero dead, and Lucien had said that Sithis did not wish it either. It was a dire choice now…go against the Dread Father and Unholy Matron…or disobey her leader. One option was far scarier than the other, and that one definitely seemed to have more serious repercussions. The Redguard flopped back down onto her bedroll,

"…I'm still not sure what to do. I guess I'll have to cross that bridge when I find him."

_"I am certain that you will make the right choice, Listener,"_ Lucien said lightly, as if it were obvious, _"You remind me of another Listener I knew. It seems like ages ago,_"

Karma looked up at the ghostly figure with a weak smile, "…are you here to stay, or do you have to go back to Father's side?"

_"My time here is limited, but we are connected now, you and I, through the powers of the Void. If you need me, you will find a way to contact me,"_ He came closer, kneeling by her side and holding out his hand. Karma reached back timidly, stunned to find she could grasp his forearm in the friendly gesture of hellos and goodbyes, _"Your enemies will soon know the wrath of Sithis."_

He faded from existence, leaving a cold air—colder than the frost—behind. Karma shivered and inched closer to the fire. Well…at least if she made the choice against Astrid, the Dread Father and Mother wouldn't hate her, right? She could deal with Astrid being angry, but Sithis? There really wasn't anything she could think of that would be worth stoking that sort of fire. If Cicero wasn't her friend, well…that probably would have been enough to convince her.

* * *

Cicero could hear the sounds of someone rushing through the Sanctuary, springing the traps he'd set and angering the spectral assassins he'd called up to guard the way. It was only a matter of time before whomever it was reached him, and with the large gash in his side, he was in no condition to fight. He was staunching the blood flow with his hand to little avail, and his extremities were slowly growing cold. He would meet the Dread Father in the Void soon…he was sure of that. The stupid hulking sheepdog had managed that one, well placed hit. He hoped that the mutt had bled to death—he'd surely sliced up the ignorant hound more than this!

The jester was mostly silent; muttering at the back of his mind, leaving Cicero free to think in what must be the last minutes of his life. The dying howl of the frost troll that had taken up residence in one part of the abandoned Sanctuary brought him back to consciousness and he watched the door, waiting uncertainly for whoever would come through. It was almost over now…perhaps once he was dead he would finally be able to hear Mother's voice…

Sickness crept into him when the door was pushed open and Karma stepped in. She was panting and obviously exhausted by the obstacles he'd set in her path, but she seemed mostly unharmed. Her sword was in her right hand and her hair was falling into her face, plastered to her forehead with sweat. It took her a moment to catch her breath,

"Cicero."

A simple statement, very little emotion behind it. The Imperial frowned. Of course Astrid would send her…dearest Listener…to do the deed! The foul witch! Perhaps she expected the two of them to kill each other! At the thought he let out a shrill little cackle,

"Okay so Cicero admits-! I attacked that she-devil, Astrid! But what is a fool to do when his mother is slandered and mocked?! Surely the Listener understands!"

Karma remained silent though, and his mind reeled with the possibility that she would follow Astrid's rule and kill him anyways. He had begun to believe that they had become friends in a way, linked through their connection to the Night Mother, but he knew better than anyone that people were quick to turn against those close to them if the incentive was tempting enough.

"You caught me," he said lowly, averting his gaze from her angrily, "I surrender," but he couldn't help the agonized sound that escaped him, "This isn't at all what Mother would want! You kill the Keeper or I kill the Listener? It's madness-!" In the moment of panic and mind-numbing pain, he continued to babble, "Killing me would be a mistake…Our Mother would be so displeased! She's your Mother too, isn't she, Listener?"

The silence from the Listener was almost painful, but he heard the sound of a sword sliding back into a sheath and looked up in surprise. Karma was advancing towards him, removing the glove on her left hand. Her expression was soft but concerned,

"…let me see that wound."

Cicero blinked at her rather dumbly, not understanding. The Redguard kneeled down beside him, carefully pushing his hands from the wound and examining it carefully. She sucked in a deep breath and placed both of her palms over the gash. Cicero twitched away from her, mostly out of shock. Under her hands an immense heat began to burn and then the strangest sensation—his muscle and skin sewing itself back together as if a knife had never kissed him. Even after the wound was healed, she continued, pushing healing energy into him until the warmth returned to the very tips of his fingers.

Then she pulled back, breathing hard again, doubling over just a little. Cicero watched her uncertainly, feeling terribly out of his element with the jester so quiet in the back of his mind. If he would start talking, singing, screaming, laughing, maybe he could process this easier. The pain subsided and slowly sat up. He could have leapt up and taken her life easily, one swift jab with his dagger, but he stayed still. Karma lifted her head and met his eyes, her own chocolate colored ones filled with a fierce fire he couldn't identify.

"By Sithis, Cicero…don't you ever put me in a situation like this again!"

Cicero was about to fire back a reply, but he didn't get the chance. The Redguard had thrown herself at him, wrapping her arms around him tightly and burying her face into the nook of his shoulder. She was trembling and he realized, with a slight delay, that she was holding back a wave of emotion. Was she close to tears? Such a thing seemed so out of place and impossible for the Listener…but she was human and capable of such. The jester giggled just a little, but Cicero was still left without his insane guidance for what to do now.

"I was so afraid that you'd be dead by the time I got here," Karma whispered lowly, her voice muffled by his shoulder, "And damn it, you put me in such a tight spot! I just can't do it…there's never been anyone I couldn't kill before!"

Cicero was the one silent now, listening to her sobbing breaths against his ear. He hesitated, but returned her embrace, something that seemed to calm her down a bit. The jester gave another few cackles, amused by their close proximity, by the warmth of her body and the softness he knew resided under her armor. He cleared his throat,

"Well, you're making the right choice, Listener, by sparing poor Cicero…after all, Mother would be…"

Karma cut him off, "It has nothing to do with Mother!"

At first he thought she was meaning to be offensive, and his body tensed with sudden fury—the Listener couldn't possibly slander dearest Mother!—but she continued softly afterwards, releasing him and sitting back to look him in the eye,

"Yes, Mother wouldn't like it if I killed you…and neither would the Dread Father, for that matter…but I'm not really doing it for Mother. Forgive me, Cicero, but I'm being selfish. I'm sparing your life because you're my friend, because you and I are a team of sorts and I don't want that to go away. I don't want to have to remember you, I want to be able to see and touch you, to speak with you, to…" she cleared her throat and dropped her gaze, "…so I'm going to lie to Astrid, that simple. You won't be able to come back to care for Mother, but I can do it in your absence, until I can figure out what to do…is that alright?"

Cicero stared at her in awe. The jester burst into glorious laughter. The Listener seemed more and more perfect all the time. His dearest Listener…

* * *

**AN: The idea of receiving that summon Lucien scroll is sort of creepy to me. :I **

**I think it's a little more...cool...this way. Tell me what you think~**


	3. Second Loss

**Hi guys. Sorry this took so long. Exam week often means I can't work on this sort of stuff. Also, I've been trying to backlog some chapters so that I don't get stuck with nothing to post~. **

**That being said, this chapter runs a little short, but a lot of stuff will happen in the next chapter. Hope you like~**

* * *

Karma took her time returning to the Falkreath Sanctuary. Leaving Cicero behind was awkward and sort of painful. He'd have to stay there by himself until she could work out a way to change the circumstances. It probably wouldn't be anytime soon…so she would visit as often as she could, hurrying through contracts to free up time in order to avoid suspicion.

She used the time it took to travel between Dawnstar and Falkreath to ponder on how she was going to pull this off. Of course, she was a good liar. It was a skill she'd developed over the years, even before she'd joined the Brotherhood. If she was capable of committing murder in cold blood, then of course she was capable of spinning a good lie. And with no one else around to dispute it or uncover the truth (as no one knew the passphrase to the Dawnstar Sanctuary) it would be effortless to maintain it. So Karma pondered over her reactions to the situation and how she would have to behave to make everyone believe her.

It should be easy. While she hid it well under her mask of mostly-mute acceptance, Karma was still a woman of emotion and impulse. Only years of practice and hardship had given her the ability hide smiles, grimaces, and scoffs. On this inside she often raged with a number of different, conflicting feelings…like all humans and mer, she felt sadness, anger, and happiness. It would be easy for her to imagine the opposite path of this situation and act accordingly.

The Sanctuary was quiet when she arrived, leaving Shadowmere near the pool where she'd appeared. Astrid was waiting by the stairwell, and Karma glanced at her sharply as she tried to pass. The Nord stopped her with an outstretched arm,

"…Arnbjorn is safe, and for that you have my thanks. But what of the fool?"

Karma sucked in a breath and turned her head away, glaring at the wall. She bit off the ends of her words as if they were vile to say, "It's over and done with. Cicero is dead. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to go care for the Night Mother. You know, since the person who was supposed to do it is gone now,"

She roughly pushed Astrid's arm aside, slipping past her. She intended to go straight to the Night Mother's chambers, but she was stopped by her leader again.

"You did the right thing, Karma. By killing him you've protected this family. And soon, the Dark Brotherhood will be restored to its former glory. When the Emperor is dead, we shall know a fear and respect that we haven't in hundreds of years. And it is your effort, in part, that will bring this future to be."

The words made her blood boil. Karma clenched her fists tightly and, again, forced a deep breath into her lungs. She didn't think she could stand to look Astrid in the face, so she spoke to the air before her, "I hope it's worth it, when it's over. I'll be in the Night Mother's chambers. I don't want to be disturbed."

This time she didn't allow Astrid to speak again before leaving. She could feel the others watching her as she passed through the main room, but she didn't address any of them, instead going straight to the sleeping area to take off her armor and leave her weapons. Then she went to the chamber before the stained glass window and shut the doors. She heaved another sigh and crossed to the iron coffin, unlocking it and easing the doors open carefully. Then she kneeled down before the Unholy Matron and closed her eyes.

It was an unearthly experience, to be linked to the Night Mother. Her presence was heavy, warm, and motherly, but also cold and merciless. The first time Mother had linked with her, the presence had frightened her terribly. She'd struggled against it, a battle within herself, but it was impossible to resist the force of the Unholy Matron. Everything had become clouded and distant, thick like heavy fog. And her voice had echoed within her skull with such power she would have collapsed if Mother hadn't have been holding her up. Since that moment, Mother had put a piece of herself within her Listener—within Karma—and the Redguard had found the foreign presence somewhat comforting and had accepted it once she'd realized what had happened. And now she was forever linked to the Night Mother, able to feel her at all times. She was certain that it was the same in reverse—the Unholy Matron forever keeping tabs on her.

"…I did the right thing, didn't I, Mother?" Karma muttered lowly.

"_Yes, Child_."

The Redguard quirked a little smile.

* * *

Cicero hadn't felt so incredibly alone in years.

The Imperial could tell a lot of stories about solitude, but that didn't mean he was at all fond of it…and ever since Karma had spared his life for purely selfish reasons, the jester had been oddly quiet, only speaking or laughing when things were especially still. Without the constant chatter, he felt oddly exposed and raw. He almost wished the jester would continue his maddening hysterics…but Cicero couldn't find a way to rouse him.

The abandoned Sanctuary was always quiet, annoyingly so, and he found himself humming often in order to fill the silence. The only good thing about the silent chambers was the amazing acoustics: Cicero could hear almost everything that made any noise at all. It was how he knew when someone entered the Sanctuary. Over the course of the last few weeks, those sounds had come to mean that Karma had come to visit him—bringing ale and sweet-rolls and her enjoyable company. But each time, those sounds grated his nerves and made the jester whisper incessantly about the possibility that it was one of the other members of the Brotherhood. If it was, he'd have to murder them in an attempt to keep the secret that he was still alive. Not that it would be a problem, his dagger was always at the ready, but he would rather avoid it if possible.

Today, when those sounds echoed through the caverns of the sanctuary, Cicero quickly turned to watch the door. His fingers brushed along the hilt of his dagger, tense preparation just in case it wasn't his Listener. He was relieved and delighted to see that it was, indeed, the Listener…but the smile dropped off his face almost immediately. Something was terribly wrong.

The Redguard was panting and covered in blood.

Cicero was at her side in an instant, supporting her just in case her legs failed to. Fear and anger welled up in his gut and the jester ceased in his obnoxious silence, filling his mind with hysterical noise. The familiarity allowed him to act, half carrying her to the warm hearth and setting her down to search for injuries. There were a lot of cuts on her body—nicks and scrapes from barely escaped sword swipes—but none of them were deep or life threatening. There was an awful burn on her left ankle, and a similar one on her forearm.

"Calm down, dearest Listener, you're safe now—Cicero will get you a potion to dull the pain, just a moment—"

Karma was sobbing, making it terribly difficult for her to relax after so much physical exertion. Her body was trembling with exhaustion, and she seemed to be using a lot of energy just to remain sitting up. Cicero managed to get her to lie down, and he set about removing the armor in his way, determined to staunch the bleeding and wrap the wounds tightly. He was sure that she was too exhausted to try healing herself with magic, as she had done for him months before.

"I-It's gone, it's all gone-!"

Cicero met her gaze uncertainly. Her eyes were full of swirling emotions—pain and anger and sorrow. It was startling. Her façade, her mask, it was completely broken. She was emotionally naked before him, a hysteric mess, both disgusting and beautiful.

"What's gone, Listener?"

"The Brotherhood," she choked out, squeezing her eyes shut against another wave of tears, "The Sanctuary and everyone in it…That traitorous witch…that disgusting wretch-!"

The anger had seeped into her voice, smothering out the sorrow. Cicero was familiar with the tactic of using rage to numb pain, the jester did it quite often, but it was simply fascinating when watching those emotions expressed by the Listener. She was glaring now, down at where his hands were wrapping a bandage around the burn on her forearm. It would undoubtedly scar. Before he could question her anger, she spoke, the words tumbling over each other in a rush,

"That insufferable harlot…Astrid made a deal with Maro. My life in exchange for the Brotherhood's safety. Of course he didn't fucking honor it. Why would he? I killed his son not a month ago!" she stopped, gritting her teeth when he pulled the bandage tight. She shuddered with pain and continued, "The Penitus Oculatus were already at the Sanctuary by the time I managed to get there. They had filled the chambers with oil and set it alight before going in to cut down anyone left. I managed to save Nazir, but the others…" she shook her head, "…Nazir ran to find Babette, but the exit was blocked when I backtracked." Karma let out a long, tired sigh. Her anger didn't completely disintegrate, but it did ease, "…The Night Mother called me into her coffin and protected me from the fire until it had died out,"

Cicero opened his mouth to speak, but she reached up and pressed the tips of her fingers to his lips, effectively stopping him. Her smile was weak,

"Don't worry. Nazir and Babette got me out of there. They're bringing the Night Mother here."

Again, the jester fell silent and Cicero found himself struck dumb. It was becoming quite annoying, really, the constant silence in his head. Karma heaved another sigh and looked up at the ceiling, her lips twisted into a frown,

"…after Mother arrives, I have some cleaning up to do."

Cicero tilted his head to the side, "Whatever do you mean, Listener?"

"Never mind that…will you help me onto a cot, please?"

The jester gave a snort, irritated at being brushed off, but Cicero nodded and carefully helped her to her feet. With her armor gone, she seemed considerably smaller in his arms. It was painful for her to step down on her left foot with the burn there, and he winced every time she hissed in pain, but he helped her down onto the fur covered mattress carefully. She grabbed onto his sleeve when he moved to pull away, and Cicero looked down at her in confusion.

"Listener?"

"…don't go."

The jester sniggered with delight, but Cicero was just surprised. He found himself seated comfortably on the cot, cradling his Listener's head in his lap. He removed his gloves and timidly brushed stray locks of ebony hair from her face, tucking them back behind her ears. Her skin was soft beneath the tips of his fingers, and the way she sighed and relaxed into his touches made the jester cackle with an odd feeling of triumph. Cicero himself was silent, uncertain. The jester was still being too quiet for his liking. Karma looked up at him tiredly, meeting his gaze sadly,

"…You know something, Cicero? Loss doesn't get easier the second time around,"

Then she closed her eyes and drifted off, exhaustion finally taking her. Cicero watched her expression soften as slumber took her, feeling confused and out of place. His Listener was making everything difficult to understand. He wasn't sure if he hated that or not.


	4. The Final Contract

**Hey guys.**

**Sorry for the long, long wait. Life literally just slammed me with a ton of stuff and I haven't had time to write. I've also officially run out of backlogged chapters, so we're moving forward at my writing speed. This took so long because I couldn't figure out how to work a scene in an interesting way. In the end, that scene was scrapped to be used in a future chapter, lol, so that's that.**

**(Sorry for the repost, I was having some issues with the publisher thing )**

**Happy New Years, btw~**

* * *

There was an odd change in Karma after the loss of the majority of the Dark Brotherhood. Cicero was well aware of it, aware of the fine cracks in her carefully built mask. It was intriguing to watch—the slow deterioration of that outside shell that he'd always been able to see through. He had always known that she was hiding something. He didn't know what that _something_ was, but he knew it was there. As complex as his psyche was, as confused as the jester often left him, Cicero was perfectly capable of seeing and understanding others. And he understood that something was wrong with Karma…perhaps in the same way that something was wrong with him.

Perhaps that's why he'd always been drawn to her.

It was odd to have her around all the time, as she began to stay with him at the Dawnstar Sanctuary. Since the one near Falkreath had been destroyed and it was nothing more than a reminder of Astrid's betrayal, it was unlikely that they would ever return there. Cicero didn't particularly mind. He didn't like being trapped in one spot for long periods of time and now that his existence no longer had to be a secret, he was happy to go out into the world and run errands with his Listener simply to get some fresh air.

But mostly, he wanted to learn more about this change in the Redguard. Her calm and careful façade was still mostly in place, but whatever madness was beneath it was beginning to peek out. He could see it. Every now and again the curve of her smile was…off…or her eyes held the darker thoughts she did not speak aloud. And it brought out the curious side of the jester. So when Karma told him that she was going to Solitude for a business visit, he asked her to let him accompany her.

He didn't expect the answer he got.

"…actually, Cicero…I think it would be better if I went alone this time,"

The jester had immediately protested, of course. He didn't like the idea of his Listener being anywhere alone. It was sort of foolish, considering he knew very well that she could take care of herself, but there was no harm in an extra blade to keep her safe. Karma had taken his hand in hers and held it gently, smiling up at him sadly,

"Please, just this once. I'm going to go visit someone, and I'm not going to be a welcome guest. Things could get messy. I don't want you to get hurt,"

Cicero's expression had made her laugh, and he'd found her amusement annoying. Normally he would be delighted at seeing her laugh thanks to his antics, but when he was being serious, he found the urge to stab her rather powerful. At the back of his mind, the jester cackled and made a little joke—something about stabbing with something hard but not near as cold—but he ignored it and protested again,

"Where are you going, dear Listener, that Cicero cannot accompany you? Cicero wouldn't get in your way. He enjoys the sneaking and stabbing. Why not simply let him protect your back?"

Karma shook her head and released his hand, looking away from him. He watched her carefully, able to detect that madness inside her—just beneath the surface now. He was so fascinated by it that he almost missed her words,

"…I'm going to exact some vengeance on the man who took my family away."

Cicero couldn't help but to sigh, still watching her critically. She reached up and brushed her fingers across the curve of his jaw, a touch that caught him off guard. Everything she did seemed to confuse him…it was frustrating at the least. The soft touch made the jester shriek with delight in the back of his skull, and a hysterical little giggle escaped him before he could catch it. Karma's smile was still in place,

"…I'll be back before you know it. And Mother should arrive soon. It'll be good to see her again, won't it? I bet she'll be happy to see you. I'm not as good at caring for her as you are, unfortunately,"

Cicero snorted with laughter. He would be grateful to return to his duties, caring for the Night Mother. It would be nice to have some daily routines back. Things had been so terribly dull since the destruction of the Brotherhood…other than, of course, that change in his Listener.

"…are you certain that you don't want Cicero to accompany you?"

"Thanks for your concern, but I'm sure~" Karma brushed her ungloved fingers across his lips, "Don't worry. Things will turn out alright."

* * *

Karma slid easily off of Shadowmere's saddle, wincing a bit when her feet hit the ground. The burn on her ankle—received from stepping in boiling oil—was still sort of tender even though it was healing nicely. She patted the demonic horses' flank, whispering words of comfort and promise to return. The horse snorted and watched her with interest, but stayed put when she moved away. The Redguard paced through the marshy land, staring across the mouth of the Karth River to the docks of Solitude.

The sun was just starting to set and the light reflecting off the water burned her eyes. She shielded them unhappily, scowling. She'd have to wait until the cover of darkness and hope that her target remained within her reach. If not, she would have come all this way for nothing—or, perhaps, she'd have to hunt him down. She could do that.

"_Revenge clouds your vision_,"

The voice was familiar this time and Karma was not startled. She didn't even bother to turn and face the ethereal figure that had appeared behind her. She could tell he was there—a creeping chill was seeping into her. Lucien's words, however, brought no comfort,

"He must pay for what he's done," she replied lowly.

"_You are allowing your desires to get in the way of your task. You must fulfill the contract. You must go and murder the Emperor before it is too late!_"

Karma turned to face him, pure fury in her features. There was a wild hatred in her eyes, a piece of the insanity that her Keeper kept glimpsing, a piece of her she'd strove to bury years ago without success,

"And what does it matter?!" she demanded, glaring up at the ghostly figure, "The Brotherhood is gone! He killed them all, he destroyed the Sanctuary! He deserves to die! He took my family away and he must pay for it-!"

"_You are behaving like a foolish child-!"_ Lucien's voice drowned hers out easily. He seemed to become more solid, glowing more brightly, and the cold his presence brought strengthened, "_Don't you see? The Brotherhood is not dead! Not so long as you, the Listener, live on!"_

Karma's anger was smothered by honest surprise. She swallowed hard, shaking her head a little as if to deny the spectral assassin's words, "…what do you mean?"

Lucien sighed heavily, letting his anger fade. He seemed irritated with her, like a caretaker might be towards an ignorant child who keeps making the same mistake over and over. His flat, luminous eyes bored into her confused brown ones,

"_You are the Listener. By right, you are the leader of the Dark Brotherhood, second to the Unholy Matron. It is your duty, your responsibility, to rebuild the Brotherhood now that the Purification is done!"_

Karma was rooted to the spot. How had it not occurred to her, that just because her family was gone that she could not make a new family? Of course, she would always mourn the loss of those who came before, but…to rebuild, to recruit new members; to make a brand new Brotherhood under the correct rules…The Redguard dropped her gaze uncertainly, turning the idea over in her head. She could do this. She could restore the Brotherhood; perhaps even make it better than before.

"…I could really do that? I could really save the Brotherhood from extinction?"

"_Yes,"_ Lucien's frustration was still obvious but at least he wasn't yelling at her now, _"As the Listener, you must do as the Dread Father wishes, and he demands that you restore and rebuild. But before you can do that, you must complete this contract,"_ He lifted his arm, pointing to the ship docked not far away, _"You must murder the Emperor of Tamriel. You must prove the people of Skyrim wrong if they believe that the Dark Brotherhood is gone! You must bring back the fear and respect the Brotherhood demands!"_

Karma turned to face the water, her expression set. As much as she wanted to cross to the docks and murder Commander Maro, Lucien was right. Doing so might jeopardize the contract and they would never get a chance like this again. If she failed here, the consequences would be immense. She let out a long sigh and nodded her head, pausing only to make sure the buckskin tube around her bow was watertight. It wouldn't do to ruin her best weapon.

"…thank you, Lucien. If you'll excuse me," She made a gesture of parting, and set off at a run. There was no way she was getting onto that ship easily, but it was docked…which meant the anchor was probably buried into the bottom of the bay. Good thing she was a fair climber.

* * *

The security upon the Katariah was laughable. Karma had felt more pressure stalking around Solitude while trying to murder Vittoria Vici. The hardest part was picking the lock on the door to the Emperor's quarters. Sliding through the door and pushing it shut behind her, the Redguard didn't at all expect to hear a voice behind her,

"And once again, I prove Commander Maro the fool,"

Karma jumped a little and spun around, dagger freed from her belt in one quick motion. Fortunately for her, the only person in the room was the elderly Emperor, who was sitting at a large desk across the way. He seemed startlingly calm.

"I told him that you can't stop the Dark Brotherhood. Never could. And here you are~"

Karma relaxed a little and straightened, sliding her dagger back into its hiding place. She locked the door and, as quietly as possible, dragged a nearby chair over to jam under the handle.

"…you knew I was coming," it wasn't a question. Karma slid her bow from her back, peeling away the soaked buckskin. Her ungloved right hand slid along the wood, checking for any lethal moisture and finding none. She withdrew an arrow from her tightly bundled quiver. It would only take one.

The Emperor watched her prepare without a hint of panic, resting his elbows on his desk and setting his fingers into a steeple,

"Of course. You and I have a date with destiny, do we not? As do all rulers and assassins. Though I must say, I am mildly surprised…I did not expect to see a beautiful young woman come to murder me this night,"

Karma let out a little snort of amusement, easily stringing her bow and testing it. Perfect.

"Flattery will get you nowhere, old man~" she chirped, her voice far too pleasant for this deadly situation, "Though how are you so sure I'm part of the Dark Brotherhood? Maro is so certain he wiped the…guild…from every corner of Skyrim,"

The Emperor chuckled again and shook his head, "Dear child, the Dark Brotherhood consists of people who are the roaches of society. No insult to you, of course. Their numbers will survive no matter the circumstance. I have always viewed the Dark Brotherhood like a Hydra. Cut off one head, and more will replace it. Maro believed he slaughtered all of you…and yet here you are,"

Karma couldn't help but to quirk a little smile, nodding a bit,

"A roach of society…I actually kind of like that,"

She was about to notch the arrow before the Emperor spoke again,

"Though I wonder…will you hear the last words of an old man?"

The Redguard paused for a moment, almost uncertain. After all, she was only doing this because she'd been asked to, more or less. She was getting paid. She bore no ill will against this man. There was no reason to be cold or cruel,

"…I'd be honored to," she said lowly, dropping her hands. The Emperor gave her a grateful little smile and stood from his desk.

"There are many people that wish me dead," he started lightly, as if this was little more than casual conversation about the weather, "In my position, it's impossible to satisfy everyone. My choices and actions are more likely to infuriate a public than to placate it. Usually, the law will keep those people from doing something rash…but there was one person who asked you to come here tonight, one person who put a plan into motion. This person must be punished for treason,"

Karma blinked in surprise. Being an assassin, it hadn't even occurred to her that Motierre had been committing a major crime by asking her to murder the Emperor. (It'd be hypocritical of her to berate someone for acting outside of the law.) She hadn't considered the Emperor any different than any other person she'd killed for money, except for the fact that he was much harder to get to.

"This person must die. My request to you…when you finish here, you must kill the person who will pay you for my death,"

The request was somehow absolutely delightful. Honestly, she'd never really liked Motierre very much and it would sort of be a pleasure to slit his throat. She clicked her tongue thoughtfully before tilting her body into a shallow bow,

"I think I may be able to fulfill that request," she straightened again, notching her arrow firmly, "I'll make it as quick and painless as possible,"

"You are too kind," The Emperor then turned and went to the window, looking out over the dark water, exposing his back to her. Karma found herself confused. Out of all the people she had murdered, none had accepted their death so easily or graciously as this man. If someone had threatened her in this way, she wouldn't just accept it…no, she'd go out with a fight if she wasn't capable of escaping.

"…aren't you afraid?" she asked, and her voice came out tiny, almost like a child, "Afraid of what happens, after I do this?"

The Emperor chuckled lowly,

"Dear child, death is not the end. It is simply the beginning of a new chapter in life. Who knows what I will encounter after this moment; but I would prefer to look back on this moment and feel proud, rather than ashamed. I do not fear death. There is no need to,"

Karma was silent for several moments, watching his back. Perhaps he'd go to the same place as her mother and father…?

"…I'm almost sorry," she said quietly, "I hope that whatever you find out there is good to you,"

The Redguard took a deep breath, taking careful aim and pulling the string back. She whispered a little prayer before releasing it.


	5. Start Anew

**Hello~**

**Sorry it took so long to get this chapter out. The first scene was brutal on me for some reason. :/ But now that this is out of the way, I actually have the rest pretty well planned out so I shouldn't run into anymore blocks like this. Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

The night was eerily still.

Nothing but the restless waters of the Karth River made any motion, slapping gently against the support beams of the Solitude docks. The wind blew occasionally, soft as the breath of a sleeping infant, sweeping wispy clouds over the face of the moon and casting the grey landscape into deeper shadows. The sense of stillness and near silence of the night brought with it a sense of unease. Though he could sense no immediate danger, Commander Maro was unable to sleep peacefully like the rest of his men. So he paced the docks in the dark, waiting for the sun to crest the horizon so that he could send the Katariah on her way.

The Imperial looked up at the hulking figure of the majestic ship, cast in the deep shadow of the great overhang of rock on which most of Solitude was built. He could imagine the Blue Palace just above him, a magnificent structure. Perhaps he would see it once more before escorting the Emperor back to his home in Cyrodiil.

If he hadn't have been looking, he wouldn't have seen it: the slight movement in the dark, the barest shift of a shadow within a shadow. Maro frowned and squinted hard, trying to see it a second time, to identify it, but it was gone. He huffed a bit, mildly irritated, and turned to walk down to the opposite side of the dock.

The whistle of an arrow met his ears too late. The sharp end buried itself into the soft flesh at the back of his left knee, tearing tissues and lodging into bone. Maro howled with pain, immediately falling to the dock as his leg buckled under him. His voice echoed across the water, but it was late in the evening now, and no one heard. His hands scrambled over the wound, feeling the injury with trembling fingers. He tore the arrowhead from the damaged flesh with a hiss, involuntary tears pushing at the back of his eyes. Maro frantically tried to stand, but his leg would not support his weight, and he looked around in the dark for the assailant in a panicked rage,

"Show yourself!"

The sound of boots striking wood made him squint harder as if it would help him see through the thick darkness. The wind swept the clouds from the moons' baleful gaze, casting silver shafts of light across the waters. Someone started to whistle. It was a familiar tune, but Maro couldn't identify it, flush full of adrenaline as he was. Footsteps sounded, short but steady strides, and a person came into the moonlight…short in stature, female in figure, a bow on her back and a dagger in hand. Even in the dim lighting, he could tell that she was a Redguard, but little else.

It took the Imperial several moments to recognize her, and even so, she was barely feet from him when he did. His eyes widened in shock,

"Impossible…" his voice was hoarse with pain and disbelief.

The Redguard woman finished the song, wetting her lips after relaxing them from their puckered position. She stopped an arms' length from him, looking down at him with bright, chocolate colored eyes. Her dagger flipped in her hand, a nimble swipe of her fingers bringing the point forward. He noticed with a sudden tinge of fear that her palm and the pads of her fingers were black, as if she had dipped her hand into paint or tar.

"Hello~"

The greeting came with a wide grin, showing off a row of pearly white teeth. The expression, however, was not a friendly one. It reached her eyes easily but did not light them with happiness. The hostility was powerful enough to be felt in the too still air,

"…Back from the dead a second time, here to introduce you to my dearest Dread Father~. Karma is absolutely dreadful, isn't she?"

* * *

The news traveled faster than Shadowmere could hope to.

Everyone was talking about it. The Emperor, murdered within his own quarters upon his own ship, a single arrow to the back of his neck. And then the leader of the Penitus Oculatos, Commander Maro, lying slain on the docks in the shadow of the Katariah. It was said to be a gruesome scene. Apparently all of his insides had been strewn across the planks, his midsection completely split open. Reports thought that someone had dug a knife into his belly and twisted before tearing it out. That and his heart had been missing completely.

The most terrifying part, however, was that both had been marked with black handprints upon their faces.

Karma didn't hear the story until she stopped in Morthal for a night of rest. She listened in on a few men sitting two tables away from hers while she had dinner in the Inn. It was over exaggerated but that was quite a good thing, especially for the reputation of the Dark Brotherhood. At the mention of the missing heart, Karma had to stifle her laughter with her cup of mead. Ah yes, she'd almost forgotten about that.

The Slaughterfish had been quite satisfied with her offering.

She went to bed in high spirits and woke up in the same good mood. Shadowmere gave her a sort of unimpressed look when she retrieved her from the stables, leading her out of Morthal by her reins. She whistled as she walked, a tune that the people of Skyrim were quite familiar with. She heard "The Age of Aggression" in a lot of the taverns where bards liked to sing and the tune had gotten stuck in her head. She wasn't pro-Imperial, but neither was she pro-Stormcloak. The civil war that was tearing Skyrim in half was not her concern. She was an assassin and she would kill whoever she was ordered to, no matter their alliance.

A few miles out of Morthal she finally mounted her demonic steed and eased her into a canter. Two days out, she could see Whiterun in the distance, the city in the middle of the wide plains. It was a quaint sort of place, really, other than the hulking form of Dragonsreach. Karma cast a wary eye about for giants before urging Shadowmere down the hill.

She left the horse at the stables just outside, grinning at the man who tended to the horses and clapping a few septims into his hand, "If you have any, give her a couple handfuls of oats, would you? We've come a long way."

Shadowmere nickered at her, obviously pleased. The man nodded to her, a little caught off guard by the smile, but returning a weak and nervous one of his own. The short walk up to the gates allowed Karma to stretch the cramps out of her legs. The guards watched her uncertainly as she all but danced by them, giving them both mocking salutes. She could already feel her fingers itching to grab at her dagger—but as enthusiastic as she was, she was still able to keep a cool head about this. She entered the Bannered Mare, her demeanor diminishing a little as she cast a quick glance around, taking tally of the people and her exit routes. Satisfied, she crossed the room, giving the barmaid a little nod in greeting.

Motierre was still staying in the same room he had been in when she'd come to hear his contract—the first Mother had ever given her. She pushed open the door without knocking, satisfied by his startled gasp. Karma pushed the door shut behind her. No one would need to see this.

Motierre was happy to see her, "I've already heard the news. You fulfilled you part of the contract perfectly. Now, your payment is a dead drop. I've left it in Volunruud. You remember the place we first met? It's in a chest. Thank you for your services."

He seemed surprised and confused when she didn't immediately turn to leave. Karma quirked a malicious little smile,

"I have some unfinished business. Be a kind little skeever and don't scream, alright? This could get messy."

The color drained from Motierre's face, "W-We had a deal!"

"A deal completed by both parties," Karma agreed, "It's nothing personal. Just carrying out the last wish of a wise old man marked for death," her smile widened into a grin.

Karma was long gone before anyone discovered the dead man in the back room of the Inn, a black handprint splayed over his face.

* * *

It'd been such a long while since she'd been to Dawnstar that she'd forgotten how damn cold it was. Karma scowled as she bent low over Shadowmere's neck to shield herself from the icy wind. The demonic horse plowed forward with an irritated sort of trot. Karma imagined that she was tired of the excessive travel…she was sharing the thoughts.

"_What is life's greatest illusion?"_

"Innocence~"

"_Welcome home."_

Karma felt a great sort of comfort as she stepped into the Sanctuary. Despite the place being a run down and in disrepair, it was going to be the Brotherhood's new home. With a sack full of coins in her pack she would be able to pay for refurbishing, and then they could begin recruiting. The very idea sent a smile to her face. She would work hard to restore the Dark Brotherhood to a previous time, and possibly make them even greater than they had ever been.

Her arrival, however, had not gone unnoticed.

"Dearest Listener! You've finally returned! Cicero was worried sick! Dearest Listener has been gone for weeks! No quick trip!" The Keeper's shrill voice met her ears and, to her, it sounded like music. It had been too long indeed.

Karma couldn't help but to laugh at his distress though, and the jester fell silent, glowering at her in immense irritation. The Redguard woman held up her hands in a defensive gesture, smiling apologetically. She'd missed Cicero more than she cared to say, and hadn't really noticed until right this moment. She was used to being without him, but greatly preferred his company to being alone.

Since when had that happened?

"I'm sorry, Cicero. I had a lot to take care of."

Cicero's eyes narrowed, "Cicero knows what the Listener has been doing. Out sneaking and stabbing, taking off your mask when poor Cicero can't see!"

The last part made Karma blink in surprise. She cleared her throat and rapidly changed the subject, "Is Mother here?"

The mention of the Unholy Matron immediately brightened the jester's features,

"Oh! Yes, dearest Mother arrived safely with the Redguard and the Unchild! Cicero admits, the Listener did a poor job of caring for her in the Keeper's absence."

Karma snorted with more laughter.

* * *

"We're going to need a lot of coin to fix this place," Nazir commented dryly as he cast his gaze around the common area, "A lot of coin. And that's just for the repairs, forget supplies."

Karma was standing by the hearth, warming her hands over the fire. It was nice to finally have some warmth back in her. She imagined that Shadowmere, now safe from the icy wind in the Dawnstar stables, was feeling much of the same. She'd ordered the stable boy to give the horse some oats and mead. The request wasn't too out of the ordinary. Too bad apples weren't in season…

Nazir's comment roused her from her thoughts and she turned to face him, simultaneously warming her backside,

"Oh, don't worry about that," she chirped lightly, "I got plenty of coin from the rat Motierre. Of course one has to offer quite a lot of septims for the murder of an Emperor. I also pinched quite a few things off the Katariah that are bound to be worth something," she smoothed her hands over her tunic, adjusting the belt at her waist, "I'll go to Delvin Mallory in Riften soon enough, see if he'll shift his loyalty from Astrid to me…considering she's dead."

The statement made Cicero cackle. Oh, how he'd hated her. The laughter caused a bit of a chain reaction and Karma snickered as well, unable to help herself. She flushed guiltily under Nazir's surprised gaze…and the jester watched from the sidelines as the mask was carefully placed on again. Sure, Karma had every reason to be angry at Astrid considering the circumstances of Karma's almost-death (twice, once in Solitude and once at the Falkreath Sanctuary), but beforehand she had never openly shown any disloyalty. Well, besides sparing Cicero, but no one knew about that until later. The Redguard cleared her throat,

"He'll be able to deal with refurbishing the place, if anyone is," she continued, turning to face the hearth again so that she didn't have to look at Nazir, "…and after that, we've got a lot of work to do."

"What do you have in mind?" Babette asked as she entered the room. She'd been poking about other parts of the Sanctuary. It was going to be tough to get rid of all the waste and repair all the damage done by the Frost Troll that had taken up residence in one of the other wings.

Karma turned to face them again, a small grin on her face. Cicero shivered in delight at the expression. There it was; that little spark of madness. He craved it and wanted to see more. His hands twitched almost as if it were tangible.

"We're going to rebuild the Brotherhood as it should be," Karma tossed her head a bit, lifting her chin, "A new family, with the Night Mother and the Five Tenants in place. We'll make Skyrim fear us again. We are not a band of cutthroats. We are the Dark Brotherhood…and we will no longer be part of a grim tale that mothers tell their babes to keep them in their beds at night,"

Nazir still looked surprised by her, but after a few moments he relaxed and a smile came to his face, "…very well, Listener. What will you have us do?"

* * *

**Now that it's posted, this chapter looks too short. :T**

**R&R if you please~**


	6. Travel Buddies

**I am SO sorry that this new chapter is so late. In the past few months, I've gone through a Major change, Finals Week, moved out of my college dorm, and moved out of state. I've also had this chapter half written for most of this time. Now that it's summer and the likelihood of me finding a job is depressingly low, I'll have more time to tend to this. I hope. **

**Anyways, I hope you enjoy chapter six!**

* * *

"I'd like you to come to Riften with me."

The request caused Cicero's hand to pause in its smooth back and forth motions, rubbing an oiled cloth over the gleaming iron coffin before him, removing nonexistent dust and grime. He cast a glance across the room to where Karma was seated, watching him in his work but offering no assistance…not that the Keeper needed any. It was unexpected, considering that she hadn't wanted him present for the last journey. Karma seemed to read the emotions in his face and spoke again, slightly shy,

"…It's a long trip, and I don't want to do it alone. Would you accompany me, dearest Keeper?"

The jester shrieked in utter delight at the sound of the title, spoken so softly by her voice. Cicero however simply smiled and turned back to his task, dipping his fingers into the intricate lines of Mother's coffin, scrubbing softly,

"Humble Cicero lives to serve."

* * *

It took a lot of coaxing to get Shadowmere to leave the warmth and comfort of the stables. Only after insistent promises that they were leaving snow behind would the demon horse even walk without Karma tugging on the reins. Purchasing a second horse for Cicero was simple enough. The saddlebags were packed with supplies, as well as the ample amounts of coin and other objects that needed to be sold off to a fence. After she'd returned from her long trip of "sneaking and stabbing", Karma had revealed just how sticky her fingers had been. Nazir had been torn between impressed and unamused, but had agreed that selling the merchandise (most of it taken off the Katariah) for good money was the best thing to do.

Travelling with Cicero was much better than travelling alone. Karma didn't regret the decision to bring him along at all. While others would have tired of his shrill voice and constant antics, the Redguard didn't mind it in the slightest. In fact, she relished in the lack of silence. She enjoyed his jokes and morbid songs, even committing a few of them to memory. Days deep into their journey they spent a number of hours trying to beat each other in a game of riddles. Cicero won.

On day five they had finally reached Eastmarch, crossing over the White River. Karma lay down on her bedroll for the night, as close to the fire as was safe, her hands tucked under her head. The sky was clear of any clouds, dark with twinkling stars. She could pick out constellations that had been taught to her years ago by people long since dead. Cicero sang something chipper as he tended to the fire and settled down for rest as well,

"Dearest Listener does a magnificent job of listening, yes she does, but can she sing as well~?"

Silence met the question, and Cicero almost rolled to face Karma, to see if she'd fallen asleep already. But her eyes were open and still on the sky. Her eyebrows were furrowed harshly and her mouth was twisted into a frown. The jester scolded him for offending her, but then the Redguard cleared her throat and began to sing.

The song was slow, a rather mellow tune, and the words told the story of a lonely traveler who had lost his home and was searching, ever searching, for a new one. In the end, he never found one, but he did find solace and peace by settling in the place he found to be beautiful. He always mourned the place he'd lost, but was able to mostly forget. Karma's unhappy expression didn't change, even when she fell silent. The jester was silent too, surprised as he was to hear the smooth tones of Karma's voice distorted by sad music.

"…dearest Listener has a beautiful voice. You should sing more often,"

Karma snorted, turning her head to give him a wistful sort of smile,

"I hate that song."

* * *

The civil war made the roads dangerous to travel, and that wasn't even adding in the recent slew of dragon attacks across Skyrim. Nonetheless, Karma wasn't worried about it, even with her saddlebags full of stolen goods. She'd never met an enemy she couldn't best and so she wasn't afraid of any bandits or guard patrols that might get in the way, especially not with the mad jester watching her back.

They were quite an odd pair, really. The small Redguard woman on a coal-black horse and a cackling Imperial in a jester's garb…they turned heads for certain. Especially since they weren't exactly trying to be discreet. Cicero would crack of joke or mutter some snide comment under his breath and Karma would laugh with unbridled delight—the jester joining in quickly after, shrieks of mirth echoing over the empty plains. Travelers passing them would give them a wide girth and avert their eyes, not wanting any contact with the strangers…but it was only a matter of time before they attracted the wrong attention.

A patrol of Stormcloak soldiers met them when they had almost reached The Rift. They had shouted for the two to halt, and so Karma had gently pulled the reins to bring Shadowmere to a gentle stop. Cicero brought his own sandy-colored mare close to hers, his expression bright, but fingers twitching. The Redguard watched the Nords approach carefully, the leader stepping forward and grabbing hold of Shadowmere's bridle. The demon horse snorted with irritation and tried to pull away but Karma patted her neck to calm her.

"Where're you headed, strangers?"

Karma regarded the man for several moments before answering, "Riften," in a dull, uninterested sort of tone. She was sizing him up, taking note of his weapons and the armor on his body. The patrol contained four men, all with swords and only two with bows in addition.

"For what reason?" the guard pressed.

"My own," her answer came out as a snarky little scoff, as if the man was a fool for asking such a question. The slight insult wasn't lost on the Nord and he pulled his sword from its sheath,

"Off the horse, Redguard."

Karma clicked her tongue thoughtfully, "Why?"

"We're going to perform a search. I'll need to look through your saddlebags and any other satchel you might have,"

The Redguard woman hummed thoughtfully, dusting her hands together to ease the calluses on her fingers. She could feel Cicero's eyes on her, judging her reaction, waiting for any order she might want to give. Her fingers danced over her thigh, searching for the dagger at her waist,

"That, my friend, is not a wise order. Please let us pass. I don't want to cause any trouble."

The guard's sneer was audible despite his face being hidden by the helm he was wearing,

"Got somethin' to hide, Redguard?"

"Of course~!" Karma's voice was a delighted chirp, "Doesn't everyone?"

The guard was silent for a while, watching her. Karma's hand was steady over the hilt of her dagger, and the foot on the opposite side of the guard was slid half out of the stirrup, ready in case she needed to get out of the saddle quickly. For a moment, she actually thought the guard would let them pass, but he seized her by the leg and gave a hard tug, meaning to topple her,

"I said off the horse!"

Shadowmere whinnied in alarm as her rider was pulled from the saddle, and Karma braced herself for impact. Shadowmere was a tall horse and she was a small woman, a badly aimed fall could cause serious injury. As expected, the guard sidestepped to avoid catching her, and Karma managed to get her arm up fast enough to catch herself on her forearm. She missed the mark slightly, though, and felt pain jar across her wrist; but she was still able to take the fall gracefully enough to roll back to her feet without too much effort.

"…that was a bad idea. _Fool_."

The word was like a trigger, and Cicero was off his horse in an instant. His dagger was made of ebony, sharp enough to slice parchment with the slightest swipe. He was upon one of the guards faster than any of them could move. He'd forced one of the Nord's head aside and jammed his dagger into the man's neck before there was the slightest protest. Blood poured from the wound, splattering over his motley, but he just laughed and pushed the body from him.

Karma couldn't recall seeing Cicero kill, at least not up close. Of course, as Keeper, he was supposed to hang up his weapons in order to care for the Night Mother, but to defend the Listener…there could always be exceptions. But the sight of blood and the sound of his laughter were exhilarating…and Karma forgot about her injured wrist as she attacked the man who'd pulled her from her saddle. Small as she was, she was a force to be feared, jabbing her dagger into the man's belly and twisting. The other two had their swords out now, startled by the sudden loss of their comrades. The one closest to Cicero slashed at him with a powerful swing that would have taken off a limb had it made contact. But the jester danced out of the way, and the sword sliced nothing but air. Smaller than the Nord, he was more agile, and not weighed down by any armor. A game of cat and mouse began, with Cicero cackling every missed swing. Karma felt laughter rising in her own chest, but she was less about the funny game than her partner. She entertained the final guard with her own sword, slightly dismayed to find that her one-handed skills were a bit rusty. She made a mental note to practice more as she ducked under a swing and slashed upward, steel ringing against steel. It was always a sound that had made her teeth jar together in pain, and perhaps that why she just preferred archery…but the sound of Cicero's delighted giggling made the clashing easier to ignore.

"Come now, are you even trying? Sweet Cicero is getting bored!" Karma managed to glance over to see him punctuate the sentence with a deft slide under the man's arm, easily sliding his dagger up into the unprotected space. The artery there was severed easily, and the guard's arm went limp. Blood poured down his side as he fell to the ground, and the final guard, startled to be the last one standing, actually turned from Karma's swing…and ran.

Shaking her left hand to ease the throbbing in her wrist, she sighed a little as she sheathed her unbloodied sword. Karma gestured to Cicero, "Bring my bow, please."

The jester hummed as he went to Shadowmere's side, easily unhooking the bow from the saddlebag and pulling a single arrow from the quiver. He danced back to her, holding both out. Karma took them, flashing a grateful smile, and notched the arrow. Her wrist throbbed from the pressure of holding the bow steady, but her hands stayed still despite the pain. Karma's eyes were narrowed as she judged distance and wind rapidly, before pulling back in one easy stroke and releasing. The arrow was true, embedding itself into the man's spine, downing him immediately. He'd made it more than a hundred feet, but it was hardly a challenge.

"…should have zigzagged," Karma muttered unhappily, lowering both hands and shaking her injured hand again. She handed off her bow to Cicero, massaging it once her hand was free. She couldn't feel that any of the bones were broken, but the tendons screamed in protest…they must have been jarred and hyper-extended when she broke her fall.

"…the Listener is injured?"

Karma turned to face Cicero, looking up into his face with a little smile, "Hardly~"

The jester searched her face, found no lie, and returned the smile. Karma's eyes slid down across his torso, and she wrinkled her nose at the sight of blood spatter across his clothing. At least by the time they got to Riften they could wash up in the river or it would be faded enough that no one would notice. She glanced down at herself. She wasn't much better…

Karma sighed a bit as she looked around them, "Ugh, what a mess," she waved a hand at Cicero, "We should get out of here before anyone comes along. But first…" she stooped to pat down the man at her feet, "…a few septims for my trouble,"

Cicero shrieked with laughter, "Oh, dear Listener, it would be rude _not_ to loot~"

* * *

The Black River was fed by Lake Geir, flowing steadily north until it met with the White River and emptied into the sea. Lake Geir was filled by water that flowed down from Lake Honrich, which was directly southwest of Riften. A cluster of islands in the center of the Lake Honrich housed the Goldenglow Estate. Luckily, since the origin of the water was far from snow, it wasn't bitterly cold. Karma was able to control the shivering tremors in her body as she sat on the bank, water up to her waist, rubbing the blood from her tunic. Soon enough, her body became used to the swirling water and she was comfortable. The crackling of the fire behind her was comforting as well, since when she was done with this, she'd be able to sit next to it. She could hear Cicero humming as he tended to the flames, his back to her, to preserve her dignity. At least that's what he said.

Karma cared little for dignity while sitting in a river mostly nude, rubbing blood from her clothes.

For the first time, she found herself wondering what he would think of her body. He'd never glimpsed her in anything less than her nightclothes, tending to her wounds from the Purification. She paused in her washing to let her eyes wander curiously across her own body, judging it as if she'd never seen it before.

She was short for a woman; she knew that was a trait passed from her mother. But she had also been given thick, strong thighs, toned by constant activity, and wide, child-bearing hips. The thick, dark hair across her pubis was less than tamed, but clean. Muscles rippled under her dark brown skin, forming lines on her abdomen, though she'd always carried a little extra weight around that area that never seemed to slim off. Her breasts were small, easily bound back to feign a flat chest, with large, dark areola. Her chocolate eyes travelled up her arms, across her hands that held more nicks and scars than any other part of her body. Being dark sinned, her scars showed up as bright lines, obvious indicators of all the people who had managed to best her in the past. One crossed over her left shoulder, another over her left knee. A long, deep one traced across her hip where she'd been slashed open once. She touched it gingerly. That wound had almost killed her.

Karma huffed a little and continued with her work, pulling her sopping tunic back across her lap. She scrubbed at the stain with a new vigor, but it only lasted a few moments before she was glancing over her shoulder at Cicero. The jester was still facing the fire, whistling a tune to himself. His shirt was missing, newly cleaned and dripping wet, exposing a large expanse of creamy skin. Karma's eyes followed the path of his spine, taking in every dimple in his skin around the bones. He was thin, ribs visible under the slim muscle. He was filled out by his motley.

He must have felt her eyes on him, because he cast a glance over his shoulder in her direction. Karma met his eyes, and they stared for several moments before he gave her the smuggest smirk she'd ever seen and turned back to the fire. Karma rolled her eyes, sticking her tongue out at his back, and turned to keep washing.

Her foolish Keeper.

* * *

**We're away from the game quest-line now.**

**What do you guys think so far? A review telling me if you're interested in this would help out a lot. Thanks! **


	7. Leadership

**Hey guys. Sorry for the long delay. Summer vacation has not been kind to me. I hope you enjoy this chapter either way.**

**I want to thank all the people who have sent me reviews and put this story on their alert-lists. Every time I get an email about you guys, it pushes me to write more and do my best to improve. I really appreciate the support!**

* * *

The pain was so severe it woke her.

Karma wasn't sure how long she'd been asleep, but it was obvious that she wasn't going to get back to sleep. She sat up on her bedroll, squinting at her injured wrist in the dim light from the mostly dead coals. It was swollen, tender to the touch. A curse slipped past her lips.

"Problems, dearest Listener?"

Karma was almost startled at the voice, turning to look at the jester. He was dressed again, red hair damp under his cap. He was watching her from across the fire pit, amber eyes smoldering. It occurred to her that she'd never seen the Keeper sleep. He was always awake when she went to sleep and he always seemed to be up before she woke. It would explain the dark circles beneath his eyes. Perhaps the jester just didn't sleep much.

The Redguard shrugged her shoulders, "My wrist. I think I need to bind it."

That would keep her from doing any more damage while it healed up. A cold compress might help as well, though she wasn't sure how to accomplish that long term. It would be difficult enough riding with her wrist throbbing as it was…and when she gently pulled back on her fingers, she discovered that using her bow would be completely impossible. She'd have to rely completely on her dominant hand for a while.

Cicero knelt down in front of her, "Let Cicero see," he said lightly, taking her arm. He was careful not to jar her wrist as he pulled her hand towards him. His gloves were rough against her skin. The jester longed to touch her, skin to skin, but Cicero ignored him, focusing on the swollen mess before him. He has to guess that her dark skin was brushed with purple. He clicked his tongue and shook his head at her, "The Listener has to be more careful. What will Cicero do if she gets broken?"

Karma huffed at him, "The idiot pulled me from my horse. What do you expect?"

The Keeper just cackled and turned away, dragging his own small pack over. He tore up a cotton tunic that was supposed to be a spare, though he never wore anything besides his motley. His hands were deft as he wrapped cotton strips about her wrist, tight but not enough to cause excess pain. Karma cautiously wiggled her fingers a bit after he was done,

"…how'd you get to be so good at this?" she asked him, giving him a suspicious side-eye.

"Sweet Cicero has gotten his fair share of injuries," responded the jester with an almost irritated pout. Karma snorted with amusement and tended to the pain, rubbing her wrist gingerly. She let out a hiss between her teeth – the sound helped relieve the throbbing ache, just a bit.

"Let's try not to get into too much trouble on the rest of the journey, alright?" she said lowly.

Cicero agreed with a nod.

* * *

The rest of the way to Riften was easy, if not pleasant. Despite the constant pain in Karma's left wrist, they made good time. The sun was high in the sky when the town came into sight, a cluster of brown buildings against an equally brown background. Karma's mouth twisted in distaste at the sight of it. She hated Riften. She despised being in the frozen town of Windhelm, yet she'd rather be _there_ than in Riften. The Redguard hadn't had many good encounters within the city and she was always one to hold a grudge. She could have overlooked the guards trying to swindle money out of her if she hadn't been accosted by a man right inside, telling her that she didn't belong there and needed to leave. Hell, she could have brushed off that too if she hadn't have been tricked into taking the heat of a theft by a member of the elusive Thieves' Guild. A night in jail hadn't exactly done much in brewing up a good mood, so when she'd found her way to the Guild hideout down in the Ratway and stolen the item that had been slipped into her pocket to frame her (as compensation of course) she hadn't garnered a warm welcome or a friendly departure. Her reception in the Ratway when she had been sent there by Astrid had garnered a little more of a welcome, though it was hardly more than cordial. Mallory had treated her like she was a child despite her then-newly-obvious connection with Dark Brotherhood, but he'd told her what she needed to know and sent her back to Astrid.

Despite all that, Karma wasn't too worried about being received in bad temper. She had Cicero at her back, which was enough of a safety net for her to feel completely at ease even with her injury preventing her from using her best weapon. Even so, leaving Shadowmere and Cicero's mare tied under the shade of trees and approaching the gate on foot brought back some unpleasant memories. The guards eyed them as they passed. Well, mostly they eyed Cicero for his strange dress. There weren't any merry-men in Skyrim. And even if Cicero was a jester, he wasn't the type that a lot of people would enjoy to meet.

* * *

Cicero's whistling echoed off the walls of the Ratway when they descended. The twisting tunnels were confusing, which was why the Thieves' Guild had set up down there. Guards that tried to pursue them down into the labyrinth often never came out again. Usually they fell prey to the people who lived down here; diseased, mentally unsound, and murderous. Karma laughed inwardly as the list drifted through her head. If those were the three requirements, she fit two out of three and therefore she fit right in. She sobered pretty quickly after the flit of humor. She didn't want to think about living down in these damp, cramped corridors. Even the ruined Dawnstar Sanctuary was more hospitable than this rank place. With her sound sense of direction, Karma led her companion through to the Ragged Flagon without an incident. A familiar face recognized her when she crossed the chamber.

"Well, well, well…look who wandered back down into the Ratway."

Karma stopped a few feet from the other Redguard woman, her expression stoic. Cicero noted the displeasure of his Listener with a curiosity. This entire trip she'd been in good spirits but upon reaching the city her mood had soured. He also noted the lack of excitement Karma exhibited at finding another person that shared in her race. Here in Skyrim, anyone who wasn't a Nord often got the short end of the stick and the minorities would band together. This was especially true of the Beast Races, but even those who looked like Nords other than a few features, such as skin tone or build, were often disadvantaged into forming tight pacts with each other. The Civil War raging right now was a lose-lose situation…the puppets of the Thalmor on one side and a racist Nord on the other.

Tonilia regarded Karma with a nod and tight smile, "What're you doing here?"

Karma promptly pulled off her pack, filled to brimming with stolen goods. She dropped it to the floor at Tonilia's feet and said, "I'm here on business. I need to speak with Mallory."

Tonilia observed the bag almost warily as if she were afraid that there were living snakes inside. When she knelt down and opened it, seeing the excess of gems, jewelry, and other trinkets, she let out a surprised sound. Standing and moving to put the pack on one of the wooden tables, she eyed Karma suspiciously over her shoulder,

"How'd you come about all this?" she asked lowly, her eyes flicking to the distracted jester who stood a foot too close to Karma's back. The Imperial met her eyes and stared unblinkingly until she turned her gaze back to the face of the other Redguard. The blank expression was more hospitable then the wide auburn eyes.

"I need to speak with Mallory. Where is he?" Karma repeated, ignoring the question. Tonilia huffed and turned her head, cupping a hand to the side of her mouth. Her shout echoed eerily and someone from the back passages of the makeshift tavern answered. A few moments later, Delvin Mallory stepped into the room. At the sight of her, he cracked a smile and chuckled.

"What can I do for you?" he asked, though he was distracted by the items Tonilia was piling onto the table. Karma didn't let him cross the room to inspect it all himself before speaking up,

"I need you to get me the resources to rebuild the Dark Brotherhood Sanctuary in Dawnstar."

Both Mallory and Tonilia faced her in surprise. Mallory recovered quickly and walked the few paces to stand before her. He was over a head taller than she was and she didn't fancy looking up at him like some petulant child. Nonetheless, she cocked her chin up to keep holding his gaze. Behind her, Cicero shifted his weight, obviously disliking the close proximity. Mallory ignored him,

"Are you here on business for Astrid again?"

"No. Astrid is dead." Karma replied bluntly, "She was killed by the Penitus Oculatus during a raid. I am the new leader of the Dark Brotherhood."

Cicero shivered against the resolve in her voice. It had only been a few days since the Purification had left the Brotherhood with only a few choice members, and before that Karma had been alright with being the Listener and only the Listener. She hadn't wanted to take the responsibility that was the leader's position, but the firm and unwavering tone in her voice revealed how she'd put that aside almost startlingly quickly. The Brotherhood needed a Listener that could lead it back to glory. Cicero knew that if she wanted, she could become just what the Brotherhood needed. Why else would Mother have spoken to her?

Mallory, however, regarded her in stunned silence. It was only a few weeks ago that the tiny Redguard woman was running errands for Astrid, and now she had taken over the Brotherhood. It was common news now that the leader of the Penitus Oculatus had thought himself powerful and righteous when he'd exterminated the Dark Brotherhood. Even Mallory had been convinced that the shady faction had been completely obliterated from Skyrim, but after the murder of the Emperor and Commander Maro, he had known better. He'd even entertained the idea that Astrid and quite a few of the others had survived the attack. So the words from Karma caused a little bit of suspicion to rise up in him.

"What is it, exactly, that you need from me?" he asked her.

Karma didn't miss the tone in his voice, and neither did Cicero if his shifting was anything to go by. Though Mallory hadn't acknowledged the jester standing behind her, it was impossible to ignore the oddly dressed figure…the one in motley with an ebony dagger at his hip. Karma crossed her arms over her chest, carefully tucking her left wrist beneath the right to avoid jarring it.

"As I said. I need you to provide the resources to repair the Dawnstar Sanctuary. The Dark Brotherhood needs a new home."

"And how do you intend to pay?"

"With coin."

It was difficult to pass up the offer. A huge renovation would come at a fair price, and the Guild could use all the money it could get. Plus, he had an inkling that the materials Tonilia was shifting through were all for sale. The Brotherhood had little use for the prizes that were being scattered over the table. Those items, plus the coin being offered, would put them all in a good spot. Mallory wet his lips and extended a hand to shake,

"Very well. Tell me what you need and it'll be done."

Karma dug into her pocket and put a crumpled roll of parchment into Mallory's outstretched hand, completely ignoring the offered shake, "A list for you. Cicero, please give me the coin purse." She half-turned and held up her good hand. Cicero, who'd been carrying the massive pouch full of the money that Karma had received from Motierre, pulled the canvas sack from under his tunic where it had been bound tightly to prevent clinking. Karma simply passed the hefty amount of coin to the still surprised Mallory, "That should be enough."

Mallory peeled open the top of the sack, judging the amount to be above ten-thousand if he had to take a wild guess. He nodded and leaned to put the sack down on the table among the items that Tonilia was inspecting, "We have a deal."

Karma nodded stiffly, "Then I'll be in Dawnstar waiting for you." She said before turning and leading Cicero away from the Ragged Flagon. They were far into the tunnels when Tonilia held up a small trinket that was engraved with the name _Titus Mede II_.

* * *

When they reached the surface world the sun was beginning to set, drifting lazily towards the west horizon. Karma let out an irritated huff and started towards the gate. She'd rather sleep in the woods than even think about spending the night in this city. Not with the amount of coin she'd just poured into the Thieves' Guild. Even if they were honorable in their own way, she didn't trust any of them are far as she could throw them…and with her injured wrist, she wasn't throwing much of anything that needed both hands to heft.

Cicero watched her closely. He saw the stress melt away from her body as they passed through the gates and back into the wilds of Skyrim. The light came back into her eyes and the grim set of her mouth relaxed. He couldn't imagine why the Listener despised cities so much, though he had his own reasons for hating the idea of being around a lot of strangers who would probably kill you for a handful of septims. Though, at the same time, being alone was just as terrible as being surrounded by possible murderous strangers. The jester chattered at him about the possibility of the Listener preferring to be lonely when Karma addressed him and Cicero was jolted back into real time,

"Help me onto Shadowmere, will you?"

Cicero helped heft her onto the back of the massive horse, wincing in sympathy when she nudged her wrist and hissed in pain. He then climbed onto his own horse, following her lead as was his duty. After a few moments the Redguard let out a long sigh and shifted to a more comfortable position on her saddle,

"Thank Sithis we're out of there,"

Cicero perked with interest and looked over to her, "The Listener prefers to stay away from big cities?"

Karma shrugged her shoulders, "No, I like some cities just fine. Whiterun and Winterhold are alright. I like Markarth when the road there is clear, and Solitude is bearable…despite the fact that if anyone knew who I was, I'd be tossed from the roof of the Blue Palace." She smothered a cackle at that, "But Riften just…I don't like the feel of it. There are people just as stealthy as me in that city and I don't like that."

Cicero couldn't help but to laugh, giving her a sly sort of smirk, "So the Listener just prefers to be the best at things."

Karma didn't bother to deny it, wrinkling her nose and sticking out her tongue at her companion, "No preference at all. It has gotten me into more trouble than I care to deal with!"

The jester had to admit she was right. While he didn't know much about her life before they met each other, it was in part thanks to Karma's skills with assassination that Astrid felt so threatened by her. That and her friendship with him. Karma's sense of honor was something to fear as well. People that felt like they needed uphold some sort of honor code would often act selfishly, recklessly…stupidly. Once the Night Mother had spoken to her and made her the Listener, she had become unwaveringly loyal to the Unholy Matron and, in a way, Cicero.

"No. I like smaller villages over larger cities." Karma admitted, "They remind me of home."

Cicero's eyebrows vanished beneath his bangs, wisps of red hair that stuck out from under his cap and hid most of his forehead. Though the interest was like a hungry beast, he didn't press her for details. Karma didn't talk about her past, something that was expected of an assassin, but that didn't mean that the Keeper wasn't itching to know. She was young, very young, by the standards of an assassin with her skill. Cicero wasn't sure, but he guessed that she was younger than six-and-twenty. Her short stature and round face didn't assist in guessing her age, but sometimes there was a shadow in her eyes that showed decades worth of pain and anger. Sometimes that shadow, that darkness, seeped out. And that was the slip that he'd been watching in her, the way that cold and calculated mask – the one she'd worn firmly within the walls of Riften – was starting to fall away. Even now, with a comfortable silence between them, Cicero could see that she wasn't holding herself to that strict code she had taught herself however many years ago. Being at ease around him, Karma wasn't trying hard to seem intimidating or cold or…sane. Cicero was seeing her now at a half-way point; a space between her hidden self and the mask she'd been wearing for years and years.

The jester shrieked with sudden outrage and the urge to force the mask down, to rip it from her, almost overwhelmed Cicero. The jester's anger was like a deep seated heat in his chest, burning and roiling with desire. He wanted to see what she was like under all that cold and unyielding false face. He wanted to force the madness out of her, wanted to mix it with his own and drink it in. He wanted to see what it was like to be with another person who was like him. He wanted to share in it, equal parts insanity and bloodlust and desire.

But he sat in silence on his horse while Karma led the way home. For now.

* * *

**Tell me what you think. All reviews are appreciated. 3**


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